


Stuck on Snuckel

by deanstrenchcoatangel



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, M/M, Misunderstandings, SO MUCH FLUFF, Who knows??, brian and brock are the main ship, brock is married??, cuteness, everyone else is a smaller ship, it hurts, just a little angst tho, literally just adorable, or at least brian thinks he is??, well except
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9566456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanstrenchcoatangel/pseuds/deanstrenchcoatangel
Summary: Brian swung open the classroom’s door to reveal Brock, the teacher from across the hall. His irritation melted as soon as he took in the shy smile in front of him. “H-Hey, Br-er, Mr. Snuckel,” he corrected himself. Teachers aren’t supposed to call one another by their first names in front of the students, he reminded himself. “What can I do for you?”Brock’s smile widened. “Could I borrow your stapler?”“Of course,” Brian said, lightly jogging over to his desk to retrieve it and hand it over to his fellow teacher. “You lose yours?”Brock shook his head, his hand lingering just a second too long as he took the stapler. “Mine decided to just stop working. And I have about 70 vocab packets to put together before my planning period is over,” he sighed. “This is what I get for procrastinating, I guess.”Brian leaned against the doorframe, “That’ll teach you, huh?”OrBrock and Brian are adorkable teachers who just need to get together already. When their students get tired of waiting for them to make a move, they take it upon themselves to help their teachers.





	1. Mondays Suck

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So! Little suspension of disbelief required here. Brian and Brock are the only members of the crew who are adults. Everyone else is a student. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

    “Good morning, students,” Brian said distractedly, his fingers skimming through the papers on his mess of a desk to locate his lesson plan. He read through it quickly to remind himself before moving to the front of the room. Some of the noise in the room died down, but there were a few students who kept talking. 

    “Good morning, students,” Brian repeated loudly, speaking clearly above the noise. The last students quieted down, giving Brian the floor to speak. “So, hopefully someone will be able to remind me, did we finish talking about foils on Friday?” The students that were actually awake and paying attention nodded. “Good, good. That means we are going to be doing a  _ project _ !” Groans echoed around the room. 

    “Mr. T, can we just… not?” One student, Evan, asked. 

    “Would you all rather write an essay?” He raised his eyebrows. “That’s what I thought.” Brian-or as the students call him, The Grading Terroriser’s English class was notorious for the rigor and constant essays. He was a hard teacher, but his students left his class prepared for the next year. 

    He clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention before he began to pace the front of the room. “Alright, so, does anyone want to refresh the class’s memory on what a character’s foil is?” Several students raised their hands. “Yes, Lui?”

    “A foil is a character who contrasts with another character, usually the protagonist, in order to highlight particular qualities of the other character!” He recited in a high-pitched squeak. 

    Brian rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Lui, for reciting the definition as if you were reading it from the Wikipedia page.”

    “You’re welcome!” Lui replied with a cheeky grin. 

    Brian rolled his eyes again. “Now that we’re all up to speed, for this project, you and a partner-”

    “Will we be choosing our partners?” Craig interrupted. 

    Brian rolled his eyes before attempting to repeat himself, plowing on as though the interruption hadn’t happened. “You and a partner-” 

    “Yeah, but can we pick our partner?” Tyler asked. 

    An exasperated sigh escaped Brian’s lips. “You guys are my AP kids. You’re not supposed to be this bloody rude.”

    “Does that mean we  _ do _ get to pick partners?” Marcel asked. 

    “If I let you pick your partners will you all stop talking?” There was a chorus of ‘yes’s. “Then  _ fine. _ You can pick your bloody partners. Now let me speak.”

    He sighed before going back into his description of the assignment. “You and a partner,” he held up a hand before someone could ask again, “yes, a partner you chose, will be creating a script to perform later this week. Since we have spent the last week discussing what makes a dynamic duo, your characters will have to complement one another’s personalities. You will have time in class today, tomorrow, and Wednesday, and we will present these scenes on Thursday. Any questions?” Several hands shot up. “Yes, Evan?”

    “Do we have to make up these characters?” Brian blinked, slightly surprised it wasn’t another troll-tastic question. Sometime AP students were a bit of a handful, those  _ smartasses _ . 

    “Good question,” Brian said after a moment. “You can, but you do not have to make up your characters. You can use characters that already exist, but do not assume that I will know anything about them. Your scene has to give me enough information that I believe they are a good pair. Treat any character you use as if they are your own original character, because I might see them as such. Any more questions? Yes, Nogla?”

    “Do we  _ haveeeeee _ to do this?” He whined. 

    Brian ignored him. “Any questions that deserve an answer?” 

    “Oooooooooooh, get rekt Nogla,” Marcel called from across the room. 

    “Any more questions?” Brian asked in exasperation. “Yes, Anthony?”

    “I wasn’t raising my hand,” Anthony, the Italian one, said in confusion. 

    “I meant the other Anthony,” Brian clarified. 

    “I didn’t raise my hand either,” Anthony, the black one, said plainly. 

    “I meant the  _ other _ one,” Brian clarified again. 

    “Oh, um, what exactly is a foil?” Anthony, the jiggly one, asked, head tilted in confusion. 

    “I hate you all.” Brian said. “If anyone has any  _ real _ questions, I’ll be at my desk, doing work, which is something I suggest you all try.” He waved his hands in a  _ I meant it, start working _ manner, before moving to sit at his desk. There was shuffling as partners were chosen, arguments over which friend would go with who, over whether to pick one’s boyfriend or one’s best friend: the usual bickering. 

    “Wait, Mr. T, I have a real question now.” 

    Brian rolled his eyes. “Yes, Nogla?”

    “Does it have to be a love scene?”

    Brian scrunched up his face in confusion. “Does anyone listen to me? Like at all? Did I ever  _ say _ it had to be a love scene?”

    “Ummm… no. But ye might have been thinkin’ it, see. So I had to ask.”

    “No, Nogla, it does not have to be a love scene. If you and your partner do a love scene, it will not affect your grade. If you and your partner do  _ not _ do a love scene, it will not affect your grade. If you and your partner do a crappy scene, it  _ will  _ affect your grade. See how that works?”

    Nogla was spared having to answer as there was a knock at the door. Brian held up a finger to his class as he crossed the room. “Figure out your partners before I’m done or I will choose them for you.”

    Brian swung open the classroom’s door to reveal Brock, the teacher from across the hall. His irritation melted as soon as he took in the shy smile in front of him. “H-Hey, Br-er, Mr. Snuckel,” he corrected himself.  _ Teachers aren’t supposed to call one another by their first names in front of the students _ , he reminded himself. “What can I do for you?” 

    Brock’s smile widened. “Could I borrow your stapler?”

    “Of course,” Brian said, lightly jogging over to his desk to retrieve it and hand it over to his fellow teacher. “You lose yours?”

    Brock shook his head, his hand lingering just a second too long as he took the stapler. “Mine decided to just  _ stop working _ . And I have about 70 vocab packets to put together before my planning period is over,” he sighed. “This is what I get for procrastinating, I guess.”

    Brian leaned against the doorframe, “That’ll  _ teach  _ you, huh?” He winced at how  _ stupid _ he sounded. 

    Brock chuckled, seemingly picking up on Brian’s inner dilemma. “Maybe you should just let me make the puns around here.”

    “Yeah, yeah, keep smart-talking me and I’ll take my stapler back.” 

    “What would you rather me do?” Brock asked, rolled his eyes.

    “Hmm… Maybe you could just kneel before me in thanks?” Brian suggested teasingly. 

    Brock snorted. “I  _ am _ free tonight, if that’s what you’re asking.”

    Brian’s eyes widened, a light dusting of pink rising to his cheeks. “I-I, um, that-that’s not-”

    “I’m kidding,” he replied through his bouts of laughter, before he shoved Brian’s shoulder lightly. “ _ Kidding _ . I know what you meant.”

    “Then get to it,” Brian recovered. 

    Brock rolled his eyes, but knelt in front of Brian, hands coming up to dramatically clasp both of Brian’s and the stapler. “Oh, great Brian, oh wonderful, generous, Brian. Thank you ever so much for granting me the wondrous gift of this stapler. I will never be able to repay you!” He stood, raising an eyebrow unamused-ly. “How was that?”

    “Could do with a bit of work,” Brian answered with a shrug. 

    “You could do with a bit of work,” Brock muttered. 

    “What was that, oh borrower-of-my-stapler?”

    “I meant, oh Brian, you’re my hero! Thank you, my knight in shining skinny-jeans!” 

    “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’m amazing and you’re forever in my debt. Just remember to bring it back to me when you’re done. I’ve lost many a school-supply this way.”

    “Will do,” Brock said, giving a mock salute and smiling before heading across the hall to his own classroom. 

    Brian turned back around to his students, a dopey look on his face. His grin instantly dropped when he took in their cheeky ones. “What? What do you all want?” He asked, grumpy Brian returning. 

    “You like Mr. Snuckel,” Scotty and Marcel sing-songed. 

    “Of course I do,” Brian waved them away. “He’s my colleague and good friend.”

    “Noooo, you  _ like-like _ him!” Lui squeaked. 

    “No I do not,” Brian said stubbornly. “And we are not discussing this further. Get back to work.” He plopped himself back into his chair, pulling a stack of papers closer to grade. 

    “Jeez, someone’s touchy…” Craig muttered. 

    “Yeah, touchy with Mr. Snuckel!” Nogla called from his seat. 

    “I hate you all,” Brian groaned. “Now, seriously, get back to work or I’ll put you with different partners. I’m  _ not  _ kidding.”

    “Man, who got your panties in a twist?” He heard someone mutter toward the back of the room. 

    “Probably Mr. Snuckel,” someone else answered. There were some days that Brian loved being a teacher, and some days he was  _ positive  _  he was actually going to kill his students. This was one of those latter days. 


	2. So Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Brock eat lunch together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for the late update. Life has been insane. I had planned to post a second chapter the weekend after the first one, but life got in the way. I had a weekend-long drama competition last weekend, so it was kind of a bust for writing as well. I also have something seriously wrong with my wrist, so writing takes forever because I am wearing a brace on it. Life seems to be conspiring against this fic. Nevertheless, I am putting this fic to the front of my priorities for writing. This chapter is a bit shorter than the first, but stuff is happening. I have a feeling you guys will like it ;). Thank you all for your support and kudos and comments. It has been crazy how much support there has been for this. I just wanted to say thank you all! :) It means so much. Anyways, without further ado, I hope ye enjoy :)

    “Knock, knock.” Brian looked up from his stack of essays to see Brock hovering in the doorway to the classroom. A small, tentative smile was displayed on his face. “You busy?”

    Brian shrugged. “Just reading through some of these essays. I was supposed to have them ready to hand out today, but, well… I didn’t.” His eyes slid up and down Brock curiously. “Did you need something?”

    Brock held up the stapler. “I figured you might want this back. And seeing as I have classes all day, lunch was my only chance.” He moved forward, setting the small black item on Brian’s desk, his fingers lingering there a moment, as if he were unsure of himself. 

    “Would you like to join me?” Brian asked, surprising himself. “Not that you don’t have plans already, which you might, but you know… If you don’t… I wouldn’t mind the company.”

    A small smile worked its way onto Brock’s face. “I would love to-” He said happily, before hesitating. “Wait, are you sure? You  _ did  _ say you had papers to grade.”

    The Irishman waved him away. “If I read too many of these in a row, my brain will melt.”

    Brock’s smile grew again. “Then allow me to offer myself as a distraction. It’s the least I can do after you let me borrow your stapler.”

    Brian felt himself smile too. “Very true.” He gestured to the seats at the desks near him. “You can pull one over and sit at my desk if you’d like.”

    “You know how to make a girl feel real special,” Brock joked, pulling over a chair and flopped down into it. 

    “Damn right,” Brian said, twirling the pen in his hand. He was far too aware of the nervousness in the air surrounding the men. His eyes fell on the small brown bag Brock was clutching in his hands. For a moment, Brian wondered if Brock actually did have lunch plans before he was intercepted by Brian. Then he realized he really didn’t care, because if he did, then that meant he chose Brian over whatever his original plans were and if he dwelled on that too long, then his heart would start to feel a little too light and hopeful, and well, he just couldn’t allow that.

    Instead, he turned his attention back towards his papers. “I don’t know how you managed to make it through a whole year of reading their papers. Especially since they must have been worse last year.” The entirety of Brian’s current class had been taught by Brock the previous year. 

    Brock’s head tilted curiously and he moved closer to Brian in order to get a better look. He shrugged, looking over the sentences that Brian was referring to. “It’s definitely better than what I got from him. He’s made some serious progress.”

    “It’s still not…  _ good. _ I don’t know how I’m going to make them ready for the AP exam.” He sighed heavily. “There’s just not enough time.”

    “I think you underestimate them.” Brock said thoughtfully, pulling a cup of yogurt out of his lunch sack. 

    “Or maybe you overestimate them.” Brian responded, turning to face Brock. He was painfully aware of how close they suddenly were. Brock didn’t seem to share this realization. 

    Brock looked into Brian’s eyes, the two of them seemingly locked into one another’s gaze. “They’ll be ready in time. Especially with you as their teacher.”

    Brian quirked an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    Brock shrugged, their eyes never leaving the other’s. “You’re brilliant. And you’re amazing at your job. If anyone could do this, it’s you.”

    Brian could feel a light blush crossing his cheeks. “Speaking of knowing how to make a girl feel special…” he teased lightly. 

    Brock knocked his shoulder against Brian’s. “I mean it, though. You’re like, awesome, ya know?”

    From this distance, Brian could feel himself falling into Brock’s eyes, getting lost in every swirl of brown. A warm, content silence clouded the air, and Brian could see Brock’s eyes flick down from his eyes to his lips and back up. Brian allowed himself the same pleasure, his eyes lingering on Brock’s plush pink lips. It felt as though a magnet was pulling them close to one another with each passing second. He could feel Brock’s breath on his lips, barely any space between them. Brian could feel his heart beating out of his chest, a single repetitive thought of  _ whatthehellishappening _ thumping around in his head. 

    It ended far too soon. Footsteps came thumping down the hall, unnoticed by the two teachers. “Hey, Mr. T-” The loud voice of Craig Thompson cut off suddenly as he took in the sight before him. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt anything.”

    The two sprang apart from each other, both mentally cursing their student’s poor timing. “Ah, Craig,” Brian stood up from his seat awkwardly. “You weren’t interrupting anything. What can I help you with?”  _ Technically _ Craig hadn’t interrupted anything as they hadn’t  _ actually _ kissed when he burst in. 

    “Uhhhh…” Craig looked between the two teachers uncertainly. “Are you  _ sure  _ I didn’t-”

    Suddenly Brock stood up. “I just remembered I’m supposed to be… doing… something.” Barely remembering to grab his lunch bag, he darted towards the door. “I’ll talk to you later,  _ Mr. T _ . Have a nice afternoon, Craig.”

    Brian sat back down, looking the very definition of deflated. “Now, Craig, what can I help you with?”


	3. Milk-Man, Vape-Boy and The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Craig recounts his tale of his teachers' would-be kiss, the squad tries to make a plan, and we meet a new student.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Hi. I'm back. I could recount a thousand reasons why this has taken so long (school, no inspiration, depression, blah, blah) but nah. I'd rather just make this short and sweet. I've been super busy and now life is a bit more chill. I can't promise a more regular schedule until I actually get to the summer part of the year where I have no shit to do but for now, I hope this + an apology will suffice. Sorry this took so long! I also want to start doing longer chapters once a get back into the swing of a schedule, but for now, I hope this will do!
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is going to honor the request of Dani666, who wanted to see Canadian transfer student Smitty. I haven't watched /that much/ of his stuff, but I have seen a good bit, and hope I can do him the honor he deserves. (same, and much more, goes for Kryoz, who I have seen barely anything of, sorry!) 
> 
> I have a basic outline done for this, but tbh nothing is set in stone. Feel free to leave requests or ideas for anything you'd like to see, and I'll see what I can do! 
> 
> Cheers, loves!

“You guys will never believe what I just saw…” Craig’s odd mixture of accents cut through the chatter of the cafeteria as he tossed him book-bag onto the ground. One loud scraping of a chair later, Craig was plopping down next to Tyler.

Marcel stole a french fry off of Scotty’s plate, shrugging. “If you’re talking about Evan and Jon, we already know.”

Craig furrowed his brow. “What? You know what, nevermind. We have more important issues at hand.”

“What? Did your mom find your collection of ‘adult magazines’ again?” Tyler scoffed, sending the table into peals of laughter.

With a roll of his eyes, Craig shoved Tyler. “Listen. I just saw Mr. T and Mr. Snuckel eating lunch together…”

“Scandalous,” chimed in the jiggly Anthony.

A heavy sigh found its way from his lips. Sometimes his friends could be impatient dicks. Nevertheless, he carried on just as insistently as before. “They were _about to kiss_ whe-”

Craig was interrupted by the sight of Marcel choking on his stolen fry before sending it flying at Lui’s forehead. None of the other teens at the table seemed to notice the potato incident (except for Nogla who glared at Marcel for his seeming mistreatment of it), too wrapped up in getting more gossip about their favorite teachers’ would-be kiss. Even Marcel, who was slightly red in the face, was staring wide-eyed at Craig, leaning forward for more information. “Well, go on,” Tyler pressed, nudging him.

“Well…” Craig started, recounting his tale. “I was stopping by his room because I needed to see if he would proof that history paper for Mr. Hutch and when I got there, Mr. T and Mr. S were inches away from kissing. Like centimeters even. Super close.” He gestured with his fingers, putting a small amount of space between his thumb and forefinger. “This close.”

“Why did they stop?” Nogla’s voice cut in. “Did they see ya or wot?”

Craig flushed guiltily. “I may or may not have called out Mr. T’s name…”

The whole table groaned in unison. “Are you kidding me?” Marcel practically yelled. “What the hell, dude?”

“I didn’t realize they were about to kiss! I didn’t put two and two together until they sprang apart like Marcel and Scotty at Nogla’s party last summer!”

“I just don’t see why you gotta keep bringing that up, bro-” Marcel cut in.

“Okay, but you get my point!” Craig hissed. “After that, Mr. S got the fuck out of there and Mr. T literally looked like someone kicked his puppy.”

Scotty’s brow furrowed. “Who would kick a puppy? And why do you know what that looks like?”

 _They are all hopeless_ , Craig thought despairingly. “Can we please focus?”

“Yeah,” Tyler chimed in, throwing an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder and rubbing it soothingly. “Craig fucked up our teacher’s one chance at happiness and we gotta find a way to fix it.”

Craig rolled his eyes but didn’t bother objecting, seeing as Tyler wasn’t that far off. The group grew silent as they ran through about a thousand plans to get their emotionally stunted English teacher to act as a human for once. Nogla, surprisingly, was the one to break the silence. “What if we jus’ keep stealin’ supplies from Mr. Snuckel’s room ‘n then he’ll hafta keep askin’ Mr. T for them? And then... Ya know... Love happens and stuff...”

“Great idea, Nogla…” Marcel said, rolling his eyes. “It’s not like he won’t notice his ex-students stealing his stuff…”

Scotty nodded, joining in. “And there’s no way for him to ask, like, _any other teachers_!”

“Okay, so we need a better idea.” Craig resolved.

“We heard you guys were looking for a plan,” came a voice from behind Craig. He turned to see a pale, brown-haired guy standing behind him. On his shirt was the logo of a cartoon… milk bag? Craig cocked his head in confusion, staring into it’s 3-D glasses-shielded eyes. Atop its head sat a red, yellow, and blue colored propeller hat.

Craig lifted his eyes from the shirt to the guy standing beside Mr. Milk Bag. The dirty blonde hair and mouthful of vape smoke told the table that Mr. Milk Bag had befriended John (or as the guys called him, Kryoz), another member of their English class. He gave them all a nonchalant wave. “This is Smitty. He just transferred from Canada.”

“You’re from Canada?” Nogla asked, excitement in his eyes. “Do ye know Evan?”

“Just because they’re both from Canada doesn’t mean they know each other, you fuck,” Tyler griped.

“You mean Fong?” Smitty asked cheerfully, surprising the roll out of Tyler’s eyes. “Yeah we used to be bros back in the day.”

“Seriously?” Nogla asked, awe coating his voice.

“No, not seriously. I was fucking with you.” At the sight of Nogla deflating, his contagious laughter filled the air, ending abruptly as Smitty crossed his arms, a picture of seriousness. “Back to business. I couldn’t help overhearing your… situation before. Kryoz and I here have come up with a sick strat.”

The group fixed him with a scrutinizing look. “This is important,” Nogla couldn’t help but chime in. “Are ye sure we can trust ‘im, Kyroz?”

Smitty furrowed his brow. “What the fuck?”

Nogla shrugged. “We don’t know ye.”

“No, I got that part. What the fuck did you just call my new best friend?” In a seeming display of best-friend-ness, Smitty threw his arm around Kryoz, ruffling his hair as he did so. 

“I just called ‘im by ‘is name: Kyroz.”

Even Tyler couldn’t resist questioning him at that. The rest of the group was too swallowed by laughter to even try. “Dude, we’ve known him for how long? His name is Kryoz. Kry-oz.”

“Why are ye fucking with me? I’m sayin’ it the same way as ye.” Nogla groaned. “Ky-roz,” he repeated, his accent thicker than ever.

“Listen, you giraffe-necked mother fucker,” Smitty said, “I’m gonna suck ya dick if you don’t stop.” More raucous laughter erupted.

Nogla waggled his eyebrows. “Then I guess I better-” A glare from Lui sent the Irishman sputtering. “I better stop, is what I was gonna say.”

Lui smirked, content. The squeaker voice making a reappearance, Lui nodded towards Milk-Man and Vape-Boy. “Now, what were you saying about a plan?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *casually hoping that the sick references to the latest mario-kart videos distracts the audience from the 3 month hiatus lmao*


	4. The Plot Thickens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smitty has a meeting with his guidance counselor. Yep, that's it, folks. You waited two months for this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just gonna start this by saying sorry. This took way too long to do, so I am sorry for that. I'm gonna try to work on this whole timing thing lol. Anyway, this is kind of a filler chapter, I will admit, but I was short on time and wanted to get something done and it's like 1 in the morning and I'm tired so take what you can get, amiright? I hope ye enjoy, regardless of the filler-ness of it lmao

Smitty had always thought himself to be a genius. Sure, he hadn’t been  _ diagnosed _ or whatever, his grades were less than excellent, and his IQ was probably just average, but he figured that if he  _ actually _ tried with all that stuff, he would probably register as a genius. Even if he wasn’t an intellectual genius, he was pretty smart when it came to people. After hearing the plight of his new friends, he figured it would be a cakewalk to get these two teachers together. The only problem? He was in Mr. T’s fifth period. While it was great for getting to see the teacher moping after lunch, it wasn’t the best for executing his plan with the guys. 

Mr. T wasn’t exactly feeling the most teacherly, obviously, so he just told his students to work on their project, leaving Smitty the chance to enact his newest, albeit smaller, plan. Once the other students had started working, Smitty headed to Mr. T’s desk. 

The teacher in question looked up at Smitty as he approached. “Ah, yes, Smitty. I’m sorry, I completely forgot that you were joining us today. You don’t have to worry about this assignment, since they’re nearly done anyway.” The look in his eyes was apologetic. “I’ll exempt you from it in the gradebook.”

“Cool, thanks.” Smitty said, shrugging it off. “Anyway, can I go see my guidance counselor?”

Mr. T frowned. “Is something the matter?”

Smitty shook his head. “Nah, just need to switch up a couple classes.”

A nod followed. “Okay, just take the pass.”

“Thanks, bro,” Smitty said before taking said pass, and loping down the hall toward Mr. Sark’s office. When he reached the man’s office, said man was staring into a hand-mirror wistfully, hand ever so slowly stroking his hair (or rather, his lack of hair) in certain places atop his head. “What’s up, Mr. Sark?”

The older man instantly whipped around, a wild look in his eyes. “Wh-” He seemed to relax when he realized that it was only a student, and not some higher-up, in his doorway. “Ah,” Sark chuckled awkwardly, slowly setting down the mirror to look up at Smitty instead. “Didn’t I just see you this morning?” His eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. 

“Um, yeah, but, there’s a problem with my schedule.” After another few seconds of awkward staring, Smitty plopped into the empty seat in front of Sark’s desk. “I need to get my English class moved to first period.”

Sark looked at him appraisingly before turning to his computer. A few clicks of the mouse and keyboard, combined with some serious eyebrow-furrowing, and Sark turned the screen towards Smitty. On it, he could see his stupid, goofy-looking sixth grade school picture leering at him from the corner, right beside a whole list of facts about him: his name, age, ethnicity, etc. Just below all of that was a digital version of his schedule. His fifth period English class was highlighted, as well as his empty slot for first period. “Alright, so you would like to be moved to first period, which puts you in Mr. Gilmore’s Engli-”

“Nah, fam.” Sark frowned at Smitty. “I want to be in Mr. T’s first period.”

A heavy sigh heaved its way from Sark. “Sorry, kid, but that’s an AP class. You’re in honors currentl-”

“So just put me in AP. What’s the big deal?” With his arms crossed in front of his chest, he was having a hard time resisting the urge to put his feet on Sark’s desk in order to complete his whole don’t-give-a- _ what _ attitude. 

Sark just gave him an unimpressed look. “The  _ big deal _ is that AP classes are a whole different ballpark than honors. Not only is the classwork more difficult, but you also have to prepare for the AP exam in a few months. Depending on your score, you may be able to get college credit.”

“Great. So put me in.” Smitty shrugged. “I get challenged mentally, and get some college credit, no downside.”

“ _ But _ you weren’t in AP at your last school. Which suggests that you are not up for this kind of challenge.”

“Bruh,” he groaned. “I’m so up for this challenge. I’m down for this challenge. I’m whatever way for this challenge you want me to be. Put me in.”

Sark looked at him hard for a moment, seeming weighing his choices. “Alright. I’ll put you in for now, but I still have to contact your parents for official permission.”

“Sick.” Smitty has to resist the urge to dab.

“Until then, we need to put you into a different class for fifth period.” Sark turned the screen back to him, seemingly navigating to the page that would show him the open classes for that period. 

“Nah, it’s all good. I’ll just take a study hall or something.” 

Sark grimaced at that. “Unfortunately, study hall is full during fifth period. You’ll have to pick from one of these options.” 

The screen was once again turned towards him and Smitty audibly groaned. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Because he had already taken most of his required electives at his old school, he only had a few options. And by ‘a few’, he meant two. Two options: Creative Writing or Art. “I guess, put me in the art class,” he muttered reluctantly. After all, _what kind of a fucking nerd actually liked writing?_


	5. The Tale of Trian and Throck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Presentation day ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaaaaaat?! A chapter that didn't take two to three months?! Unheard of, I know! This is (probably) the second-to-last chapter, unless I think of some other shit to stuff in here but I dunno, dudes. This might be almost the end. Without further ado, I hope ye enjoy!

Thursday came too quickly for Brian’s liking. Project presentation days were always some of Brian’s least favorite. His students usually spent less time actually showing off good products than kissing up to him. While he usually didn’t mind it as much, the past few days had been stressful (awkwardly trying to avoid the teacher across the hall usually came with those kind of side effects). 

This day, however, was different from the get-go. Whereas he would normally be assaulted by pleas for an extension, he was faced only by his students wearing shit-eating grins. They were up to something, and he knew it. He just didn’t know  _ what _ they were up to yet. 

His first clue was the reluctant knock on the door, right as he had asked who wanted to present first. Brian gave his students a narrowed, suspicious look but moved to the door anyway. He opened to it and came face to face with none other than Brock. “M-Mr. Snuckel!” He managed to squeak, surprise closing up his throat. “What brings you here?” As far as he knew, Brock had been avoiding him just as hard as he had been avoiding Brock. 

Brock’s timid smile faded. “Uh,” he chuckled nervously. “Your students invited me. They said that they thought it would be a good idea for me to see how much they’ve improved in a year.” He seemed to falter at the confused look on Brian’s face. “They said you agreed.”

With a hearty swallow, Brian managed to nod. “Oh, yeah.. Must have slipped my mind,” he lied. “We were just about to get started.” He stepped out of the way for Brock to enter. After throwing a scathing glare at his students, he and Brock took a seat and the back of the classroom, his usual project-presentation-viewing seat. “Who wants to start?” He asked, trying to keep a lighter tone.

“We will,” said one of his (relatively) quieter students, Adam. He and one of the Anthonys (the Italian one) stood, passing rubric sheets back to where the two teachers sat. From the second they opened their mouths, Brian knew he was in trouble. Adam took a deep breath, but connecting eyes with Brian and grinning. “My character’s name is Trian.”

Anthony grinned, locking eyes with Brock. “And my character’s name is Throck.”

Both teachers audibly swallowed, realizing that they had just stumbled into the teacher version of Parent Trap. 

***

As it turned out, Adam and Anthony weren’t the only ones who had chosen the characters of Trian and Throck, and they were not the only ones to use them romantically, either. In fact, by the third time they showed up ‘onstage’, this time in the form of Marcel and Scotty, Brian couldn’t help but object. “Okay, guys, come on. Who are these characters even?”

Marcel’s eyes flitted to Smitty for a split second before returning to his teacher’s. “They’re from a popular young adult book series. They are the leads. And they make a great couple.” He may as well have been reading from a cue card. 

Brian wasn’t buying it. “And these characters just so happen to be both wizards and, what was it Smitty and John were? Oh, yes, underwater cowboys?”

Scotty rolled his eyes. “Come on, Mr. T, it’s called creative license. Have you never heard of alternative universes?”

This time it was another Anthony, the jiggly one, who chimed in. “Yah, dude, the whole point is that they always end up together, no matter what obstacles are in their way. Because they’re perfect together.”

Brian furrowed his brow. That was weirdly…  _ sweet? _ “Okay, fine then, get on with the scene.” Maybe they had a point. Even though he was still convinced that this was some bullshit ploy, he had to admit it; epic romances were kind of nice, even if it wasn’t in the cards for he and Brock. 

Scotty and Marcel shared a grin before they got into place. Scotty set the scene into action, striding across the faux-stage space with a faux-angry face. “Don’t start with me, dude.”

“Don’t ‘dude’ me, Trian,” Marcel said with a slightly better faux-angry voice. “Not when less than five minutes ago, you had my dick in your mou-” It was going to be a long period.

***

The scene between Nogla and Lui had been surprisingly… soft. Though they had also committed to the epic romance between Trian and Throck, their scene had taken place when the two were in high school. It was clear that Trian, played by Nogla, was closeted, and that was a problem from Throck, played by Lui. It came to a head in the final moments. 

Nogla huffed, crossing his arms and turning away from Lui. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I said I’m not telling anyone.”

“Why?” Lui asked, and Brian was surprised by how convincing his plea was. 

“Because-” Nogla’s voice  _ cracked _ and both teachers were struck with the thought that these kids needed to get into acting because damn. “Because you know how people around here are!” Nogla finally managed to choke out. “They will never be okay with this.”

Lui sighed, any fight seeming to leave his body. “Screw people. All that matters is that we are together, wherever we want, doing whatever we want.”

Nogla shook his head. “We can’t have that and you know it! Think about the people at school. Think about our friends. Jesus, think of our parents! None of them will ever be okay with what we have between us.”

“They’ll just have to learn to be okay with it. Because-” Lui drew in a deep breath. “I’m in love with you. And it’s  _ not fair _ that I have to pretend like I’m not or that we’re just friends or whatever because some assholes might be disapproving.”

“Throc-” Lui held up a hand to cut him off.

“I understand that you’re scared, but I mean it when I say that I will never leave your side. I’ll be with you the entire time. No matter what happens.”

Nogla nodded slowly. “Ok.” They shared a soft smile that Brian was sure had nothing to do with the scene before turning to their teachers. 

Brock, who had been silent for most of the class, was the first to speak. “That was really wonderful, you guys. Your acting as well as your writing.”

Brian nodded his agreement. “Excellent writing there Lui.”

Lui frowned. “Actually, that was mostly Nogla. I mean, I helped and stuff, but yeah. Can’t take credit for that.” Nogla smiled and nodded sheepishly.

“I apologize,” Brian said, “Good work, Nogla.” 

***

The bell rang not long after Nogla and Lui’s scene, Brian’s students fleeing as soon as they had the chance, leaving Brian and Brock alone. For the first time since he arrived, Brock looked at Brian, making actual eye contact. “I suppose they were trying to tell us something, huh?” Brock asked, a timid smile playing on his lips.

“I guess one could infer that,” Brian responded, not able to help the smile that formed in response. 

Brock rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to say something, but stopping as students began to pour into the classroom. He winked at Brian, standing to leave with a final, “To be continued?”

Brian couldn’t help but goofily smile back. “To be continued.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of their scenes? I wasn't completely sure what I was doing half of the time, but hey, it's here so yeah. Let me know what you thought! Leave me some ideas for postponing the end of this fic! Or don't; it's your life. Hope you enjoyed!


	6. And All It Took Was One Glittering Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian and Brock have a talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I know this chapter is kinda short and feels kinda rushed but I am really low on time for writing and I just really wanted to put out another chapter for you guys because I know it has been a while. Things have just been insane for me. I hope you guys enjoy this, nonetheless!

Brian had been anxiously pacing in his room for 15 minutes when the door swung open. His nervousness ramped up by about one thousand percent when he saw Brock there, a tentative smile on his face. “Hey,” he said, stepping into the room. “I think that we should talk. About today.”

“I think so too,” Brian agreed, starting to smile as well. “I didn’t know they were planning that, honestly.”

“I kind of figured. But that’s not really what I wanted to talk about.”

“Then what?”

“Us,” he said after a moment. “I guess. There’s kind of a lot to unpack there.”

Brian furrowed his brow. “Is there?” 

He never got to find out if there was, in fact, a lot to unpack there, because there was a knock on the open door. Brian turned to see a woman standing there, looking to be about mid-twenties, her dark brown hair in an effortlessly beautiful ponytail. “Brock?” She asked, excitement barely concealed in her voice. “You weren’t in your room-”

Brian didn’t miss the way his face lit up when he saw her. “Lauren? What are you doing here?” Brock asked with a large smile, rushing over to sweep her into a hug. “I thought you were going to be in Austin until Tuesday!”

“You thought I would miss our anniversary?” She laughed, throwing her arms around his neck. Brian caught the glimmer of a ring on her finger.  _ No, _ Brian thought, his mind in a panic,  _ Brock can’t be  _ married!

“Uh, Brock?” He coughed, trying to get rid of the ache beginning in his chest. 

Brock slowly set down his…  _ wife? _ and turned to face Brian again, his face slightly red. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Lauren, this is Brian, my… colleague? And, uh, Brian, this is Lauren. She’s-”

“The  _ most _ important woman in his life!” She said dramatically, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “And she’s been sitting on a crowded airplane  _ all day _ and would love to go out to a fancy dinner with her favorite person…” 

Brock rolled his eyes, but Brian couldn’t deny the fondness in the action. “Alright, alright. I’m really sorry, Brian, maybe we could talk tomorrow morning? In my room?” 

_ What is there to talk about? _ “Sure,” he agreed because even if there was no hope, he couldn’t say no to Brock. 

***

The next morning, Brian showed up to Brock’s room, questioning every one of his life decisions.  _ Why am I here? _ He cursed himself for being such an idiot.  _ Why am I mooning after a married man? _ He questioned as he walked into said married man’s classroom. 

The married man in question looked up immediately, a smile on his face. “Good morning,” he said in a chipper tone.  _ Guess someone got lucky with their dumb gorgeous wife who is probably better than you in every way because she got Brock and you didn- _ “You alright, Brian?”

“Yeah,” he said roughly. “Look, I’ve got some things to look over this morning so I’ll make this quick.”

Brock blinked. “Um, okay?”

“I know that things have been confusing between us but I will make it really simple. We are friends and colleagues. I know that there are some feelings that may or may not exist between us but that is all we are.” Brian felt the words rushing out of him, one after the other after the other. 

“Brian, I-I don’t underst-”

“Whatever feelings there are don’t matter because, well, sometimes things just don’t work, you know? Sometimes one person starts to feel things for someone else but that someone else is straight and is with a beautiful woman named L-L-Lanai,” he choked out, unable to actually say Brock’s  _ wife’s _ name. “And yeah that sucks but those people can still be friends, you know?”

Brock was visibly upset by the time Brian was done speaking but he forced himself to turn away. He didn’t know what game Brock was playing. Maybe he hadn’t realized how Brian had felt- ugh, of course he had. In reality, Brock could only want one of three things from Brian: a friend, to be left alone, or someone with whom he could cheat on his  _ amazing _ wife.  _ No _ . Brian would not let himself be used by anyone, even if it was someone like Brock. Brock opened his mouth, “Brian-”

He didn’t wait to hear what Brock had to say. His heart was broken. And all it took was one glittering ring. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you thought! I love hearing feedback!


	7. Picket Fence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian gets some advice from an unlikely source.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slinks back after two and a half months* hehe.. sorry about the wait, gents. I tried to make this one a little longer to make up for it, but don't worry, it's as trash as always...
> 
> I have been pretty busy lately with school and now I have the flu so that's great but yeah. Also, little side note: would anyone actually be interested in supporting me via Patreon or something like that? I know I have talked about my money issues in the past and well, college is coming up and I am prepared to do anything for money. Idk. Let me know if you have any ideas! Cool, thanks.
> 
> Back to why we are gathered here today: we ARE at the final couple chapters (I know I said that two chapters ago but that was before I thought of the angst angle). This has been quite the loooong journey. Thank you guys for coming this far, and supporting this fic so much. It honestly means the world. Well, I guess I shouldn't keep you waiting any longer, should I?
> 
> Enjoy!

Brian spent the next half-hour pouring over every word that Brock had ever said to him. What did it all mean? Why had Brock encouraged him after the presentations if he was married?  _ He wanted to experiment _ , his mind supplied.  _ Probably, at least. _ They were both young, handsome… It made sense, in a distant way. Brian would have let Brock experiment on him in whatever way he wanted, had it not been for his…  _ wife _ . 

_ Ugh, his wife! _ Just the phrase reminded Brian how mad he was at Brock. He had been a bit too stunned and sad to really do anything more than flee before, but… soon, he assured himself. Soon he would let Brock have a piece of his mind. Probably.

The Irishman was broken from his thoughts by a knock at his door. He looked up to see Sark peeking his head inside. “You busy?”

Brian nodded after a moment, sitting up in his chair. He pushed away the book he had been obviously trying (and failing) to distract himself with. Despite his English major, Brian had never really been able to lose himself in books. His mind was too loud. In an attempt to not look  _ quite _ so pitiful in front of his very respectable colleague, he ran a hand through his hair. “What’s up?” He asked. 

“Wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay with me putting another kid in your class halfway through the year,” Sark said. “I know you’re picky about your AP bunch.” He took a deep swallow from his mug, the motion attracting Brian’s eyes to the thing. It was a bright blue, the image of Sark with his wife and their two kids slapped on the side of it. They were all smiling at him through the ceramic masterpiece, practically laughing at his unhappiness. 

“Was it love at first sight?” Brian asked, ignoring Sark’s question entirely. Sark was old. That meant he gave good advice, right? “With Katie?”

Sark seemed to think for a moment before half-nodding. “For me, hell yes. She is easily the most beautiful woman that I have ever seen. Except for maybe you, of course.” He winked and Brian couldn’t help but laugh at how dumb it was. He appreciated Sark’s effort. 

“So you guys just met and  _ boom _ , marriage and two babies?”

“Oh hell no. I said it was love at first sight for _me._ _She_ was engaged to another guy when we met.” Sark moved to sit on the desk opposite Brian’s; clearly this was going to be a long talk. 

Brian’s eyes widened, surprised. He had never heard this story. “So what did you do? Let it run its course?”

Sark scoffed. “Uh, no. That was one picket fence I did not mind hopping over.” The older man must have seen the surprise and confusion on the younger’s face, because he just rolled his eyes. “Obviously I deserved her more if she were willing to leave him for me.”

“But, I mean, they were engaged… That’s kind of serious.”

Sark rolled his eyes, again. “They weren’t married yet. That’s the important thing to remember. Just engaged. And she liked me more. Yeah, that’s the more important thing to remember.”

“What if they had been married?” Brian asked hesitantly. Old people _ were  _ good at advice, after all. 

Sark frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Brian hesitated for a moment, trying to figure out his phrasing. “What if you met Katie and for the  _ longest time _ , you thought she was single, right? And so you two build up this… this  _ flirtationship _ , right?”

Sark nodded. “I’m following.”

“Alright, so you’re flirting and then one day you almost kiss, right? But then you don’t. And you spend all this time wondering why and you feel like maybe you accidentally messed things up and you don’t know how and-” Realizing he is just rambling, Brian sighs. “Anyway, you two get over that awkwardness and it seems like something  _ real _ is about to happen between you two and then Broc- er, Katie’s husband walks in. So, I guess my question is, what if you  _ really _ like someone, but they’re like, married? What do you do?”

“I punch him to mark my territory.” Sark says immediately.

“No! You can’t-” Brian sighs. “This is the real world. What would you actually do?”

“Brock has been interested up until this point?” Sark asks. 

Brian hesitated for a moment. He  _ was _ sure that Brock had been interested, but what if he had been reading into things? “You thought so,” he settled on answering. “But now, who knows?” He is so focused on reanalyzing his and Brock’s interactions that he doesn’t realize what Sark  _ actually _ asked.

Sark gives him a knowing look before standing and clapping him lightly on the shoulder. “I think I would just talk to Brock if I were you. Be honest. He might surprise you.”

Brian jerked, head snapping up. “Wait, you knew?”

“I know everything around here, Trian. I’m a guidance counselor.” With another sip from his happy family mug, Sark turned and skipped,  _ actually skipped _ , out of the room.

Brian had barely ten minutes to politely ignore Sark’s advice before the room started to fill with students. Luckily for him and his lack of a lesson plan, there were still a few more projects to be presented. Unluckily for him and his broken heart, they were probably all about Trian and Throck. 

“Good morning, Mr. T,” said Kryoz as he entered the room, his arm around the shoulder of New Kid- er, Smitty. “How was your afternoon?” There was something all too smug about his voice that Brian hated with every fiber of his voice. 

“It’s was fine,  _ tank  _ you.” Both Kryoz and Smitty snickered.  _ Damn his accent. _

“Top of teh mornin’ to ye all!” Nogla said, strutting into the classroom with Lui.  _ At least you don’t have it as bad as  _ some people _ ,  _ he reminded himself, taking the distraction as a means to return to his book.

He was able to actually get through a whole sentence when he was interrupted again. “Is Mr. Snuckel coming back today?” Smitty asked. It was sneaky, asking about Brock without  _ really  _ asking. This kid had to be behind all those skits, Brian just knew it. None of these other numbnuts were smart enough to coordinate something as brilliant as that at that kind of scale. 

“Of course he is,” Marcel answered, sliding in the door, Scotty in tow. Brian wasn’t surprised to see the jiggly Anthony, Tyler, and Craig shortly behind. “Why wouldn’t he?”

Brian took a small breath. He needed more patience than he possessed to get through this day. “He’s not, actually. He has his own work to do, guys. Papers to grade, vocab tests to… grade, lesson plans to… not grade…” Brian trailed off with a shrug. The excuse was flimsy even to his own ears. 

Scotty half stood up. “I could go check, ya know, make sure he doesn’t want to join in.”

“Did you guys bang or not?” 

“Tyler!” Craig slapped his boyfriend’s arm.

“What?! I’m just asking what we’re all thinking!”

“Alright,” Brian stood up from his desk, his temper catching up to him.  _ This _ was one thing he did not want to, nor need to, deal with today. “You all need to stop this, right now. It was all fun and games before, but Brock... Mr. Snuckel is married. It would be wise of you all to keep that in mind before you insert him into another round of childish skits.” With a final heaving sigh, Brian sank back into his seat and pulled his book back towards him. 

The room was silent for a long, tense moment. It seemed like no one was even breathing until- “We’re really sorry, Mr. T,” Craig said. Or was it Marcel? Or Smitty? It was hard to tell, because after a second everyone was jumping in to apologize. Even Tyler managed to swallow his pride long enough. 

“We didn’t know he was married,” Marcel said. 

“What kind of dick doesn’t wear a ring?” Tyler grumbled. “What were we supposed to think?”

Brian blinked. Tyler was right. Where  _ was _ Brock’s ring? Sure, Lauren had been wearing one, but… Brock hadn’t been. What was he supposed to make of that? Had Brock been trying to trick him into sleeping with him? Surely that was where they were headed, had it not been for  _ Lauren _ showing up… Oh God, he had been so blind. 

“Do you want us to beat him up for you?” Kryoz asked finally. There were nods of agreement from literally everyone else in the room. 

Brian swallowed, his chest tightening a bit. He would be the one to beat him up, if Brian was right. “No, no. Mr. Snuckel did nothing wrong.”

Smitty rolled his eyes. “He led you on prett-y hard.”

“I thought I told you guys to drop it.” As if on cue, the first bell rang. “Alright!” Brian said, not willing to waste a second. If there was one way Brian knew how to distract himself, it was with throwing himself into an improvised lesson. “Time for our next assignment!”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that was worth it! Leave a comment and let me know what you think! Or don't! It's your life!


	8. A Series of Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet up to discuss their next plan of action. Brian finds consolation in a close friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOAHHHH WHAT IS THIS???? A second chapter in two days??? And it's the longest chapter yet! Not to get your hopes up, because it's just trash, but whatever. It's here. Also, I realized the problem with making EVERYONE a freaking student is that it is hard to have anyone for poor Bri Bri to talk to. Then I remembered one of his actual, real life BFFs so yay me, I guess lol. 
> 
> I have been pretty busy lately with school and while I had a little pocket of time, I can't promise it will last. As always, I guess we will see.
> 
> Also, little side note (again): would anyone actually be interested in supporting me via Patreon or something like that? Idk. It could be cool. Let me know if you have any ideas! Cool, thanks.
> 
> Back to why we are gathered here today: we ARE at the final couple chapters (I know I said that three chapters ago but that was before I thought of the angst angle). I think there will only be one or two after this, unless anyone has any ideas to prolong it?? Leave a comment, I guess lol. Anyway, this has been quite the loooong journey. Thank you guys for coming this far, and supporting this fic so much. It honestly means the world. Well, I guess I shouldn't keep you waiting any longer, should I?

To their credit, Brian’s students didn’t say anything else about Mr. Snuckel for the rest of the class. Once they were in the hallway, nearly every single one of the boys was buzzing with a new energy. Mr. T was easily the favorite teacher of every single one of the them. If there was one thing they could all agree on, it’s that he didn’t deserve the shitty hand he was just dealt. Now, they just needed to figure out how to fix the man’s mess. But how were they supposed to do they? The group merely stared at one another before all eyes landed on Smitty. He had gotten them this far, he would surely figure something else out. 

Mr. Milk-Man stared at Brian’s door for a long moment before sighing. This would take a lot of work. “Anyone have an actual class this period?” He knew that, with them being seniors, odds were in his favor that everyone was free. And as luck, or plot devices, might have it, the mass shaking of heads confirmed his suspicions. “Alright, then follow me.”

The group was abnormally silent on the way to the parking lot. It was only when Smitty came to a complete stop that  anyone dared to say anything. “Are we going to break into Snuckel’s car to get some evidence?” Scotty asked eagerly, rubbing his hands together and looking around for the car in question.

“Evidence  _ of what _ ?” Tyler asked judgingly.

“Uh, I dunno, maybe evidence of you having a brain?” Marcel cut in, protectively wrapping his arm around Scotty. “I think I’m definitely gonna need some proof.”

“Boys, boys,” Kryoz stepped between the two goons squaring up. “Let Smitty talk. You might learn something.”

The Canadian stepped forward, holding up his hands pastorally. “Just remember who our real enemy is right now. Now, I figured we couldn’t risk this kind of thing spreading around school right now, and the parking lot is usually pretty discreet.” Since he had met John on his first day, the two of them had snuck out every day at second period to…  _ study _ in John’s car. No one had caught them so far. That had to meant one of two things: people were too afraid of John to confront them, or no one was ever in the parking lot to see them fuckin-er,  _ studying _ . Smitty heard someone clear their throat.  _ Oh yeah. _ “So that’s why I brought us here.”  _ Great leadership _ .

Lui nodded. “Good thinking. So what’s our plan? I don’t know if I’m really down with breaking up a marriage.”

“If Mr. Snuckel is really married, I don’t think there’s anything we can do there,” Smitty said simply. “But we  _ can _ make him sorry he hurt Mr. T like that.”

“Uh, I dunno about whatever that means,” Anthony said. “I don’t really want to hurt Mr. Snuckel.”

“Yeah…” Craig agreed after a moment. “I’m all for getting teachers together, but  _ punishing _ a teacher… Besides, Mr. Snuckel is a pretty great dude. I don’t know if I can hurt him.”

“Look, guys, Smitty’s right,” Marcel said. “I like Mr. Snuckel as much as the next guy, but the way he just led Mr. T on is really messed up. We all saw the way they were eyeing each other, and now the guy is married? Nah, son. He’s not the guy we thought he was.”

Tyler nodded his agreement. “Yeah, what kind of a dick doesn’t wear his wedding ring?”

“Or have any pictures of his wife around?” Scotty pointed out. “He doesn’t even  _ acknowledge  _ that he has a wife.”

“Are ye sure we can’t beat him up?” Nogla suggested.

“Nah, nah,” Smitty waved him away. “But think about this: all of us, his room, after school. After all, what could be worse for poor, old, awkward Mr. Snuckel if a huge group of his ex-students called him out for his thot-ery?”

“You’re a genius,” Kryoz said, awe evident in his eyes.

“I know.”

“Not  _ you _ , Nogla.”

 

***

 

“You’re being extra pitiful lately.” Sean had one hand on his hip, the other buried deep in his curly brown locks. Once he realized he had Brian’s attention, he pointed at the man accusingly from his place in the doorway of Brian’s bedroom. “What’s wrong?”

The accused man sunk deeper into his bed. After dealing with annoying students and a broken heart all day, Brian had rushed home to lie in bed and sulk. “Leave me to die.”

“Nah. They’d think I had something to do with it. If I’m going to jail for your murder, I’m damn well going to enjoy it,” Sean said, moving to sit next to Brian. “Now what’s wrong?” There was something softer about his voice as he asked the second time. 

Brian sighed. “Remember that bloke Brock I was telling you about?”

“The teacher you almost kissed?” Sean asked cheekily.

“Yes, him.” The Irishman closed his eyes, burying his face in a nearby pillow. “He came by class yesterday and well, I mean I thought we were about to do it then and there but then…”

“Did you get caught? Are you fired?”

“His wife came in.”

Brian didn’t have to see Sean’s face to see the surprise there. “He’s married? And to a bird?” He nodded. “Bloody hell, Brian, how did you not know that?”

“I don’t know!” Brian practically screeched. “He doesn’t wear a ring! And he’s been like, flirting and I don’t know, Sean, I didn’t think that he was that type of bloke! But I guess he is.”

There was a long stretch of silence as both of them just… processed. Sean finally broke the silence. “What are you going to do?” 

“Avoid him, for starters. I don’t know what else I can do. He’s married.” When did he start sounding so pathetic and mopey all the time?

“Didn’t beg you for a quitter,” Sean said, crossing his arms over his thin body. “Have you even yelled at him yet?”

“No, of course not.” 

“Why not? He completely dicked you, and not in the way you wanted.”

Brian removed the pillow from his face and looked up at his best friend. “Do you really think I should yell at him?”

“Oh, I dunno, Bri.” Sean shrugged. “It’s not really up to me. What do  _ you _ want to do?”

“I don’t really have many options, do I?”

“Of course you do! You have the same options as before, just now there are more people involved…”

Brian promptly put the pillow back on his face. “It’s just not fair. Why’d he have to be married?”

Sean groaned. “Bloody hell, Brian. What’s the big deal?”

“I’m not dating a married man!”

“Not that, ya idiot. What’s the big deal about him? You barely talk to the guy, he borrows your stapler and all of a sudden you’re in love with the guy. I don’t get what’s so special about him.”

“I’m not in love! I just… He’s just…” Brian groaned. “I don’t know!”

Sean shook his head amusedly. “The great womanizer, Brian Terrorizer, stuck on Snuckel.” He giggled helplessly. “Imagine what the girls back home would say if they could see you now! You’re paying for your teenage and college playboy years, ya know?”

“I guess all that cheating  and hopping from girl to girl caught up with me, huh?”

“Guess so, bud.” Sean patted Brian on the face-pillow. “Don’t worry, though. You’ve still got me.”

“Lucky me.”

 

***

 

“What brings you boys to my humble abode?” Brock said, a smile on his face that didn’t quite meet his eyes. All of this confusion with Brian was just making his head spin. He needed a distraction, and while he would normally be ecstatic to have old students stop by, he had a feeling they weren’t coming to ask how his cat was doing. This group were always up to something, as evidenced by their (admittedly well-meaning) stunt yesterday. 

“We know what ye did to Mr. T,” Nogla said suddenly. Almost simultaneously, every boy managed to cram an elbow into the Irish student’s side. 

Brock felt his fake smile fading away in confusion. What  _ he _ did to  _ Mr. T _ ? No, that wasn’t right, he hadn’t done anything.  _ Ugh _ , he really didn’t have the patience necessary to deal with this amount of misinformation right now. “Sorry, boys. I’m not sure what this is about, but I really need to get going. Dinner plans,” he lied. 

“Just like you,” Kryoz said, crossing his arms. He stepped forward. “Always running away.”

“Always avoiding the truth.” Tyler stepped forward next to Kryoz and crossed his arms.  _ Oh great _ , Brock thought.  _ They’re going to block me in. _

“Who are your dinner plans with?” Craig asked, a level of venom in his voice that Brock never knew possible. He moved into position next to Tyler.  _ What the hell was making them act like this?  _ It was only then that Brock realized the rest of the boys were already in the line, blocking any hope of an exit, glaring him down with arms crossed. All except their seeming leader. The only one Brock hadn’t already taught.

“Why didn’t you tell Mr. T that you were married before you did all of that flirting and leading on and stuff?” Smitty asked, moving into position next to Kryoz. “Did you just want him to be your mistress or something?”

Brock blinked. “Excuse me?”

Smitty crossed his arms, tilting his head back like a straight thug. Or, at least, a bisexual one. “You heard me.”

“Boys, boys…” Brock shook his head. “But I’m not married.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was worth the wait! Lemme know what you thought! Or don't; it's your life.


End file.
